User blog comment:Bartholomew Bilberry Bowstring/The First of Many/@comment-26024035-20160425040834/@comment-4677325-20160502040939

Falkin grumbled in response as he was pushed forward. "Alright, alright, fine." He walked towards the main tent, arriving a few feet away from the badger and clasping his paws behind his back before speaking. "Excuse me. You're the blacksmith here, right?"